#borderland coalition

[lenora-reyes]

A Stagnant Reprieve

Several months had passed now with no notable change since the incident that took place upon the Dragon Isles. While parts of Lily Pier had been revisited and reclaimed - the Squire had felt the same. Debilitating confidence was hidden with a broad smile and exceptional service to the people; but inside she felt great distress and frustration. Every day was an effort to strive to do more, to be better, and to grow in the ways needed of the Coalition.

She had met so many people in such a short time from the darkest parts of Duskwood to the poorest areas within Westfall. No one person was more invaluable than the other - and Lenora saw to it that her presence was known.

One such traveler she had met was a man by the name of Sir Jandor Briarwood. He happened upon the small town of Darkshire not too many days before while she had been doing a final patrol of the area. According to him, there had been some hysterical woman spouting about a witch in the area. And while it wasn't too far-fetched for the Squire to believe, it did raise some concern about the Coalition's absence in the darkened woods.

But if there was some one she could count on to keep things in check, it would be that of Blackscale. In their previous departure to the Dragon Isles, he had kept to his word to ensure the dangers would be kept at bay. Though as to the details of that venture, she didn't press too much. Especially given that her spirit had become completely shaken since their defeat against Stratogeth.

There were likely some conversations with Adamar to straighten her mindset and bottle those feelings she felt temporarily. But there was a boundary being set onto how much she depended on that guidance. So much so that she made any excuse to remain sparse from her mentors and keep as busy as she could. It wasn't like this boundary was needed though when Adamar was called to investigate more trouble elsewhere in the realm. Newfound activities that were adopted by the Squire ranged from reconstructing homes, to broadening her skills at the forge after Apprentice Hal's tutelage, and to train in isolation after any mandatory arrangements by her knights.

Every minute that wasn't spent doing something led her to that spiraling discomfort of despair. It was only in the presence of others that she could keep her mask on and put on the face that people wanted to see. That was easier than the nights she had to work herself to the point of exhaustion to sleep. There was a constant worry about the dreams that had surfaced in her coma that led her to fight against her body's needs.

On one of the final days before the voyage set to Northrend would take place, Sir Briarwood had arrived to Westfall injured after an attack in Duskwood. In her efforts to see to his recovery, she took him to the local church within Brushwind for treatment and to hear the doctrine of the light for some blessings. His armor was terribly damaged and the night was spent in utilizing some of the Draconium ore she had collected while at the Dragon Isles to fix it.

Given the effort of her contributions - there was no way Jandor felt he could return the favor outside of his appreciation and gratitude. That had felt like enough for the numbed Squire. And it gave her a sense of fulfillment when not a lot else had.

As the dawn of the voyage arrived, she brought herself towards the dock with what belongings she had for such a frozen hellscape. And while she had developed a close and strong bond with Dopey, her horse was brought about this time to accompany her onto the boat. The days that followed at sea were swifter than the months she had endured in Westfall.

Upon their arrival at Venture Bay - the Squire had kept her ears open and head down to escort those in need from the vessel. Everyone was given a hand where she could spare it. And while she had some interest in seeing what else the world had to offer, it felt watered down by the reception at the dock. But as she had promised to those she left behind - she made time to write to them telling of her arrival to Northrend.

Yet so much remained unknown to the Squire. And while she didn't know how to anticipate the trouble that lie ahead, she was mentally preparing herself for it. And before long, another solemn day passed where she was roused from her sleep to aid with the caravans and wagons.

The deciduous woodland of Grizzly Hills was surveyed as she followed on foot beside one of the wagons. Her horse was used to help pull one of the many wagons to the Howling Fjord. It was no surprise that the brisk cold air was certainly something she would need to adapt to. But if anything, she had a strengthened resolve to see things through.

And as she had expected, some journeys aren't made without a hiccup in the road. @theborderlandcoalition

[tanadrin]

What you mention about different audiences, and about how people often spend more time arguing with ideologically close rivals than with farther removed enemies, reminds me of how antis will attack a teenage girl who feels sorry for and attracted to Kylo Ren, before they'll attack right-wing dudebros who write whole thinkpieces seriously arguing that the Galactic Empire is analogous to the US military and thus necessary to maintain order. Or how they'll jump down other fans' throats for kinning characters from the Cringey Unwoke Cartoon Du Jour, but they've literally never given me flak for describing my gender as "Tarantino girl" or "if the Narrator became Marla instead of Tyler"

Indeed! Where identities and ideological distinctions are clear is where you least need to police their boundaries. This is why the near group will always be more salient than the far group, for that kind of self-congratulatory, identity/ideology-reinforcing activity.

Forays away from those borderlands might be more effective at achieving large scale politics goals, but they’re harder to pull off and thus more fraught. The strategic reason why you shouldn’t favor those kinds of internecine squabbles is that the people you necessarily pick those fights with are your best bet for coalition building, and without building coalitions it’s hard to make substantive progress.

But we humans can be rather shortsighted and baboon-like when it comes to matters of ideology and identity (because ideology so often is identity), so it’s a trap we fall into often.

[mariacallous]

MIRAN SHAH, Pakistan—Mohsin Dawar’s campaign for re-election to Pakistan’s parliament was almost cut short before it began in early January when his convoy was ambushed in a village just a few minutes’ drive from his home in Miran Shah in Pakistan’s North Waziristan district, near the lawless borderlands with Afghanistan. As his car came under attack from militants armed with automatic weapons, sniper rifles, and rocket-propelled grenades, he and his team were lured into a compound by residents who promised them safety.

It was a trap. Once the gates closed behind Dawar, the attack intensified. For almost an hour, he said, they were pinned down. Police and Pakistan Army backup finally arrived but not before two of Dawar’s team had been shot and injured. The vehicle took more than 80 bullets, and the windows show just how accurate the attackers’ aim was: Either one of the shots to the windshield or passenger window would have struck and likely killed him if he hadn’t been protected by bulletproof glass.

The Jan. 3 attack on a popular, outspoken, liberal leader in one of the most vulnerable regions of a country fighting a growing insurgency by extremist militants hardly registered in Pakistan, where most believe the military attempted—and failed—to manipulate the Feb. 8 election in an effort to install Nawaz Sharif as prime minister for a fourth time and where media operate under tight government control.

The election wasn’t quite the foregone conclusion that had been expected, with candidates aligned with the jailed cricket star-turned-populist leader Imran Khan winning more votes than each of the major parties—the Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N) and the Pakistan Peoples Party—forcing them into a coalition to get the majority needed to form a government. PML-N leader Nawaz Sharif nominated his brother, Shehbaz Sharif, to become prime minister and his daughter Maryam Nawaz as chief minister of Punjab province, ensuring the dynastic line continues.

Candidates across the country, not only those loyal to Khan, alleged that the results had been rigged against them and in favor of military-backed candidates. Two days after the election, with his seat still undeclared amid growing concerns nationwide about vote rigging, Dawar and about a dozen of his supporters were injured when security forces opened fire on them as they gathered outside the official counting room.

At least three people died of their injuries; What Dawar had believed was an unassailable lead, according to polling by his secular National Democratic Movement party, had disappeared. In the count that was listed as final by Pakistan’s Election Commission, the seat went to Misbah Uddin of the Taliban-aligned Jamiat Ulama-e-Islam-Fazl party. Dawar is still recovering from a serious leg wound.

Dawar’s hometown is, once again, the battleground of what he calls “Project Taliban”—a war against the Pakistani state.

The Taliban’s transnational ambitions are threatening security beyond the borders of Afghanistan, and nowhere is this more evident than in Pakistan’s northwest, where the militant presence has been growing since the terrorist-led group came back to power in August 2021. Attacks on civilians, soldiers, and police have soared. The region bristles with checkpoints and hilltop outposts and is heavily patrolled on the ground and in the air by the Pakistan Army and armed border police. That’s during daylight hours, Dawar told Foreign Policy. Once night falls, it’s a different story.

“The Army checkposts you will only see during the daytime. Before sunset, they go to their barracks, and the people of Waziristan are at the disposal of the militants. Everyone has to secure himself or herself for their own protection,” he said. “It is militarized, and I believe it is a continuation of a proxy war that was started long ago. ‘Project Taliban’ is still continuing.”

The roots of militancy and terrorism in Waziristan go back to colonial times, when the mostly Pashtun people here were characterized as fearless fighters and pressed into service for the British. The stereotype stuck; the region became a center of recruitment and training for young men to fight the Soviets after Moscow’s 1979 invasion of Afghanistan.

After the United States led an invasion of Afghanistan in 2001 in retaliation for the 9/11 attacks, leaders of the Taliban and al Qaeda moved over the border and for the following 20 years enjoyed the protection of the Pakistani military’s intelligence wing, the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) agency.

The ISI wanted a tame Taliban-led Afghanistan to thwart the ambitions of archrival India to become the dominant regional power. The Taliban had different ideas. The group’s return to power has inspired affiliated and like-minded groups worldwide, as the extremist regime provides safe haven for dozens of militant groups, according to the U.N. Security Council. They now openly use Afghanistan as a base to train fighters seeking to overthrow governments from China and Tajikistan to Iran and Israel. Among them is Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), which, Afrasiab Khattak, a former Pakistani lawmaker and now a political analyst, said, is “just Taliban, there is no difference.”

Earlier this month, the Taliban reiterated the group’s stance on the international border between Afghanistan and Pakistan when the acting foreign minister, Sher Mohammad Abbas Stanikzai, said the government doesn’t recognize the Durand Line that has delineated the two countries since 1893. The line runs through the tribal regions, dividing ethnic Pashtun and Baloch tribespeople. Recent bilateral tensions have often focused on the border, with tit-for-tat closures impacting cross-border trade.

In comments that Pakistan’s foreign ministry later called “fanciful” and “self-serving”—and which underlined the simmering hostility between Pakistan and the Taliban it helped put in power—Stanikzai said: “We have never recognized Durand and will never recognize it; today half of Afghanistan is separated and is on the other side of the Durand Line. Durand is the line which was drawn by the English on the heart of Afghans.”

The Security Council said in 2022 that the TTP had up to 5,500 fighters in Afghanistan. That number has likely risen, Dawar said, as neither country, mired in economic mismanagement and crisis, can offer its youthful population an alternative livelihood. Victory brought strength, Dawar said, and the Taliban “can attract the youth because money and power is what attracts youth the most.”

The simmering conflict threatens to return Pakistan’s northwest to the wasteland of less than decade ago, when the TTP controlled the region: Dissenters were routinely killed. Terrorists turned the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA), now part of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province after an administrative merger in 2018, into a death zone. Millions of people were displaced as those who could leave fled to peace and safety.

Those who stayed lived in fear and poverty until the Army finally took action in 2016 and ended the TTP’s 10-year reign by simply killing them, often in attacks that also killed civilians, or pushing them over the porous border into Afghanistan, where they joined Taliban forces fighting the U.S.-supported republic until it collapsed in 2021.

The TTP wants an independent state in these border regions. It broke a cease-fire with the government in November 2022 and has demanded that the merger of the FATA with Khyber Pakhtunkhwa be reversed. Attacks on the military and police have escalated alarmingly, presenting what a senior government official, who spoke anonymously, called “not only an existential threat to the state but also to the common man”—a recognition that what Dawar calls “Project Taliban” not only threatens to engulf the northwest but, if not contained, poses a potential threat to a fragile and barely stable state.

Caretaker Prime Minister Anwaar-ul-Haq Kakar disagreed, telling reporters before the Feb. 8 vote that the military had the upper hand in the region, by virtue of numbers alone. “I don’t see that they pose an existential threat to the state of Pakistan,” he said, while nevertheless conceding it was a “big challenge” that could take years to dislodge.

He could be right. After the failure of peace talks, ironically brokered by the Taliban’s acting interior minister, U.N.-listed terrorist Sirajuddin Haqqani, Pakistan stepped up pressure on the TTP. Asfandyar Mir, an expert on South Asian political and security issues, said this appeared to have made a “marginal” difference.

“For instance, we haven’t seen a complex or suicide bombing attack by the TTP or one of its fronts for a couple of months now,” he said. “In that sense, it appears the Taliban is sensitive to pressure,” though “smaller-scale attacks and the erosion of Pakistani state authority in parts of the northwest continue.” Things could change, he said, once a new government is installed and, perhaps, brings some stability to the political landscape.

For the people of Waziristan, struggling to survive unemployment, a lack of development, and government neglect of basic services such as roads, electricity, clean water, and education—coupled with a downturn in vital cross-border trade with Afghanistan—priorities have again switched to peace. “The local people have learned through their own bitter experience of devastating war” what a Taliban resurgence means, said Khattak, the political analyst. The security establishment is playing a dangerous game, indulging the TTP so that “local people become so desperate they want the military to come in and help them,” he said.

Hundreds of thousands of people have marched through the streets and bazaars of North and South Waziristan over the past year, demanding action against terrorism and an end to state violence. Yet it continues. “No one is safe. Everyone is a target,” said a man in his 30s as he rolled off a list of potential victims: politicians, business people, teachers, doctors, journalists, civic activists, women’s rights advocates, anyone deemed “un-Islamic.” Even barbers are not immune from extremists who ban men from shaving: The day before the Jan. 3 attack on Dawar’s convoy, the bodies of six young hairdressers were found in the nearby town of Mir Ali.

Another local resident pointed to a “Taliban checkpoint” on the road between Miran Shah and the bustling town of Bannu. The long-haired, kohl-eyed, gun-toting youths in sequined caps stand outside their roadside hut in the shadow of an Army post on the hill above. Around the clock, the resident said, they randomly stop vehicles to shake down the drivers. “It’s just for money,” he said. “Money and power.”

But it’s killing, too, “on a daily basis,” said a government worker who left Miran Shah with his family at the height of the TTP terror and visited in early February from Peshawar so he and his wife could vote for Dawar. The aim, he said, is “to create an atmosphere of fear so that people leave and what is here is theirs.”

Dawar said the turning of the Taliban tables on Pakistan “was predictable.” The Taliban “are now a threat to Central Asia. They are now a threat to Iran, to Pakistan, and to even China. All of them thought we will control the Taliban after the takeover. The problem is it didn’t happen,” he said.

In 2011, then-U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton warned Pakistan’s leaders that they couldn’t keep “snakes,” as she called the Taliban, in their own backyard and “expect them only to bite your neighbors.”

“There used to be a time when people were sent from here to Afghanistan. Now they are coming around, they are biting,” Dawar said.

[mightyflamethrower]

Nearly eleven months ago, in August 2023, the New York Times reported that U.S. officials had estimated that some 500,000 Russians and Ukrainians had been killed, wounded, or missing in the then 18-month Ukrainian War.

Both Russia and Ukraine underreport their losses. Hundreds of thousands of additional casualties have followed in the 28 months of fighting.

In the West, the mere mention of a negotiated settlement is considered a dangerous appeasement of Russia’s flagrant aggression. In Russia, anything short of victory would be seen as synonymous with the collapse of the Putin regime.

Yet as the war nears two and a half years this summer, some facts are no longer much in dispute.

Controversy still arises over the circumstances of the 2014 overthrow of Ukraine’s pro-Russian President Viktor Yanukovych.

Russia charges that the West engineered the “Revolution of Dignity”—an effort to westernize the former Soviet republic, to expand the borders of Europe right to the doorstep of Russia, and eventually to fully arm Ukraine as a member of NATO. Westerners counter that most Ukrainians wished to be part of Europe and independent from Russian bullying—and they had a perfect right to ask to join either NATO or the EU or both despite anticipated escalating tensions.

After the heroic Ukrainian defeat of the 2022 Russian bid to take Kyiv, there have been few significant territorial gains by either side.

Like the seesaw bloodbath on the Western Front of World War I, neither side has developed the momentum to force the other to negotiate or grant concessions.

As nuclear Russian threats against Europe mount, NATO is seeking to regain deterrence capabilities by boosting defense budgets, incorporating robust frontline nations Sweden and Finland, and uniting over shared concerns about Russian aggression.

Many in the U.S. cheer on the conflict as a necessary proxy war to check Russian aggression and bolster NATO’s resistance.

But unlike third-party wars during the Cold War, now the Western client, Ukraine, is fighting directly against the chief antagonist of European NATO members.

Arming a proxy in a war waged against the homeland of a nuclear adversary is a new and dangerous phenomenon.

The West counts on supplying Ukraine with more and better weapons than a richer, larger, and more populous Russia.

But Ukraine’s problem is not so much weapons as manpower. Nearly a fourth of Ukraine’s population has fled the country.

Ukraine may have suffered some 300,000 causalities. The average age of its soldiers is over 40 years. It already lacks sufficient forces to replay the failed 2023 counter-offensive. The Russian plan of attrition is to wear down and bleed out the Ukrainian people.

(The death tally for this war now exceeds the number of British and American deaths in WWII)

In a geostrategic sense, the new alignment of Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea is starting to gain opportunistic support from illiberal Middle East regimes, Turkey, and the Islamic world in general.

The Biden administration’s respective approaches to the Ukraine and Gaza wars continue to be utterly incoherent.

It lectures our strongest ally Israel on the need for a ceasefire, proportionality, a coalition wartime cabinet, and the avoidance of collateral damage. The administration considers the terrorist Hamas almost a legitimate state.

However, Biden and the American diplomatic establishment urge Ukraine to keep fighting without negotiations. They urge Kyiv to seek critical disproportionality through superior weaponry, including hitting strategic targets inside Russia.

The U.S. has overlooked the cancellation of Ukrainian political parties and elections by the Zelensky administration. America does not seem to care about Ukrainian collateral damage to the borderlands. And it considers the Russian government a near-terrorist state.

No one in the West, at least prior to the Russian February 2022 invasion—neither the prior Obama, Trump, and current Biden administrations or the Ukrainian government itself—had considered it even possible to regain by force the Crimea and the Donbass absorbed by the Russian invasion of 2014.

Add up all these realities, and the only practicable way to avoid another near-one million dead and wounded would be a settlement, however unpopular.

It would entail the formalization of the 2014 Russian absorption of Crimea and Donbass.

Russia would then agree to withdraw all its forces to its pre-2022 borders. Ukraine would be fully armed but without NATO membership.

Both sides would agree to a demilitarized zone on both sides of the Russian-Ukrainian border. Russia would brag that it prevented its former province from joining NATO while finally institutionalizing its prior incorporation of the Donbass and Crimea.

Ukraine would be proud that, like heroic 1940 Finland, it miraculously stopped Russian aggression. It would remain far better armed than at any time in its history and soon enjoy a status similar to that of non-NATO Austria or Switzerland.

The deal would anger all parties. But it would make public what most concede privately—and stop the ongoing destruction of Ukraine and the further slaughter of an entire generation of Ukrainian and Russian youth.

All that the trillion American Taxpayers dollars has accomplished is prolonging the conflict and doubling the death toll. This war could literally go on forever. How can that be anything but immoral??

[plethoraworldatlas]

The U.S. Border Patrol turned 100 years old on May 28. Its troubled origins and history form the backdrop for contemporary concerns about the agency, including impunity for abuses against migrants and citizens alike. The Border Patrol’s centennial provides an opportunity to shed light on the agency’s lack of accountability and to pursue a vision for border communities that is grounded in dignity and human rights.

The Border Patrol was founded in 1924, as part of the same restrictive immigration legislation enacted widespread national origin quotas for the first time. That law, the Johnson-Reed Act, excluded immigrants from Asian countries almost entirely and limited the number of new immigrants to the populations that were present in the United States at the time of the 1890 census—a tactic to exclude Eastern and Southern European immigrants, grounded in deep anti-Semitism. While the law did not directly restrict immigration from the Western Hemisphere, it included funding for the Border Patrol to control the movement of Mexicans into the United States while accommodating West Texas ranchers’ need for labor.

The U.S. government’s first attempt at federal border control followed the Chinese Exclusion Act. The Mounted Guard of Chinese Inspectors patrolled the northern and southern borders to apprehend any unauthorized Chinese immigrants from entering the United States.

But the Border Patrol’s roots can be traced back further, to the Texas Rangers—the law enforcement agency that perpetuated racist and xenophobic violence to keep enslaved Black people from leaving and to exclude Mexican and indigenous people from entering the country. Many of the earliest Border Patrol agents were former Rangers and the culture of racialized policing of the border remained. Southern Border Communities Coalition (SBCC) has documented the history of Border Patrol’s abuses in the borderlands, including its integral role in “Operation Wetback,” where it engaged in military style raids to violently deport over 1 million workers, including U.S. citizens, to Mexico.

[lboogie1906]

Julie Ethel Dash (October 22, 1952) is a film director, writer, and producer. She received her MFA at the UCLA Film School and is one of the graduates and filmmakers known as the L.A. Rebellion. After she had written and directed several shorts, her 1991 feature Daughters of the Dust became the first full-length film directed by an African American woman to obtain a general theatrical release in the US.

Daughters of the Dust was named one of the most significant films of the last 30 years, by IndieWire.

She was born in Queens to Rhudine Henderson and Charles Edward Dash. She graduated from Jamaica High School and went on to receive a BA in film production from City Colleges of New York. She was raised in the Queensbridge Housing Project in Long Island City, Queens. She studied at the Studio Museum of Harlem. She wrote the script for a documentary for the New York Urban Coalition, entitled Working Models of Success.

After graduating from CCNY, she moved to Los Angeles for graduate studies. She completed a 2-year Conservatory Fellowship in Producing/Writing at AFI Conservatory. She became one of a new generation of African and African American filmmakers known as the “Black insurgents” or L.A. Rebellion.

She directed Working Models of Success (1976) and the next year, produced Four Women (1975). It won a gold medal for Women in Film at the 1978 Miami International Film Festival. She directed the film Diary of an African Nun (1977). Screened at the Los Angeles Film Exposition, it earned a Director’s Guild Award for a Student Film.

She has worked in television since the late 1990s. Her television movies include Funny Valentines (1999), Incognito (1999), Love Song (2000), and The Rosa Parks Story. The National Underground Railroad Freedom Center commissioned her to direct Brothers of the Borderland in 2004, as an immersive film exhibit narrated by Oprah Winfrey following the path of women gaining freedom on the Underground Railroad. She directed episodes of Queen Sugar.

At the 2019 Sundance Film Festival, it was announced her next project will be a biopic of civil rights icon Angela Davis. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #alphakappaalpha

[noparg]

Xcom2 - Review

With the release of the Nintendo Switch a lot of companies decided to release ports of their games on it. The latest to join this trend was 2K with their collections, namely for the Bioshock, Borderlands and XCOM2 series. Today we’ll review the XCOM2 collection, the oddball of the bunch, which includes XCOM2 and its DLC.

Story

Set twenty years after the first game, XCOM2shows a future were XCOM was incapable of repelling the invasion. After a war with heavy casualties, the aliens set the ADVENT coalition, formed by humans originally interested in negotiation with the invaders, as puppet government.

At the start of the game, an XCOM assault team is diving into an ADVENT facility to rescue the Commander, the character from whose point of view the players interact with the game. After succeeding in their mission Dr Richard Tygan, XCOM’s resident scientist, starts a procedure on the Commander in order to remove a chip implanted in their skull.

After analyzing the chip, it turns out to be a connection to the whole ADVENT network, through which they were using the Commander to analyze and provide tactical information on their campaigns.

With the Commander now freed, XCOM is back into the playing field. After raiding several of ADVENT’s secret facilities, XCOM discovers the Avatar Project, which they will have to stop.

As part of the War of the Chosen expansion, three new factions are introduced into the game, with extra bits of story for each of them. An example of this is the conflict between the Reapers and Skirmishers, which is ended by a truce against their common enemy, the aliens.

The expansion also adds three special enemies known as the Chosen, each of them having a special relationship with one of the new factions. They also have some backstory which can be found and read in the archive, adding some amount of flavor to their characters.

Graphics

While the graphics in XCOM2 Collection are as good as expected, they are definitely downgraded from the other versions. Sometimes the image will look muddy or somewhat lacking in details. This is not a stylistic choice since the blur happens to go into whatever is being shown, but taking into account the lesser power of the Switch it was most likely necessary.

Even if player controlled characters are not the most unique, players can fiddle around with them. All allied soldiers can be customized with a decent amount of options, allowing for a slew of different designs. It is worth mentioning that while this is a nice touch, it could’ve been somewhat more polished since a few of the options are somewhat lackluster.

Enemies are a whole world, with each of them including very unique designs which allow players to know at a glance what to expect. The only possible complain would be with the standard soldiers, which from a top-down perspective can sometimes be confused. This first part also applies to boss enemies, which boast special looks to match their abilities.

There are a few graphic mess-ups in the game, such as enemies going through walls due to their size, soldiers putting their arm through walls to shoot, etc. Another one would be how the camera is handled at times, making weird moves that don’t show anything and being generally awkward.

Sound

XCOM2’s sound is pretty good; the voice acting, soundtrack and SFX all have high production value and effort put into them. That said, the soundtrack can get somewhat repetitive after a while, with most songs being pretty similar.

It is also a very nice touch how allied soldiers have accents matching their nationality (if the option is enabled), though same as with the soundtrack, after a while of hearing the same catchphrases it ends up becoming repetitive.

Gameplay

Both mainline XCOM games play as turn based tactics games. In them, the player controls a squad of soldiers which start being the same but obtain different classes after downing some enemies. These classes obtain more skills as the soldiers defeat more enemies and continue improving. Soldiers belonging to the factions added by War of the Chosen evolve somewhat differently, having several skills to choose from without special training instead of the standard two.

Missions feature varied objectives, from hacking into ADVENT terminals to rescuing civilians. A few of these missions offer the option to evacuate without defeating all the enemies, but most of them don’t. As the player progresses through the game, more missions with more types of enemies start appearing.

As previously mentioned, War of the Chosen adds the three Chosen enemies. The way they work is that any operation conducted in there are has a chance for them to appear. If the player manages to defeat them, some extra skill points will be received. The Chosen cannot be killed until several “covert operations” are launched and their hideout is discovered. Once this happens, an assault can be launched to kill them for good.

A great part of XCOM2 is the base and map management, with several locations which can be analyzed to receive bonuses. Inside the base itself, the players can choose researches for Dr Tygan, unlocking improvements, new items, etc. They can also build new facilities, craft items, visit the archive etc.

All of the research and construction takes in-game time, which passes as the player scans the aforementioned locations. At the end of every in-game month, supplies are received from other resistance cells. These supplies act as money of sorts, being required for most improvements or items. There is also another currency known as Intel which can be used at the black market and some other places.

Overall, it is very arguable that the base management is as important as the operations themselves if not more. This management is also a hard part of the game which may get overwhelming at times due to a lot of events happening very close to each other, but as they improve, the players will get used to it.

Now that everything about the game itself has been talked about, there are is pair things to mention about the port, which is less than perfect.

A big issue is the abhorrent loading times; going for up till a pair of minutes at times. It is safe saying a player would have more than enough time to get fully dressed or take a bathroom break while the game loads. This is especially true for any save reloads, which are even longer than other load times. Similar to this, crashes can occur, which force to reload the game from the last save.

Directly related to this, during some of the loading screens voiced dialogues may start, but due to the game being stuck in said screen no subtitles will pop up for those playing without volume.

Lastly, it is important to mention that the game will drain the Switch’s battery in about 3 hours while undocked. Besides this, it will make it get hotter and the game itself will start getting choppier/slower the longer it’s played for, up till the point where inputs may take several seconds to register.

Conclusion

XCOM2 is a really good game on the hard side of general difficulties. While accessible to everyone, it is hard to master and requires either time or being familiar with the genre as a whole. If the player can get past the issues of the port, which don’t affect gameplay itself, it is a more than recommendable game.

Personal Opinion

“XCOM2 is very fun, I had a really entertaining time with it, thought the loading times annoyed me to no end. It definitely is a great tactics game and a worth purchase, though I’d personally recommend getting it on any of the other platforms over Switch. This recommendation is due to a pair of factors, but mainly because the other versions don’t have the issues intrinsic to the port (though allegedly the loading times are still sketchy) and are more likely to get sales anytime soon.”

[theborderlandcoalition]

About TBC

About us! The Borderland Coalition, aka House Sunshield is a RP guild with a simplistic story. A lord, his Knights, and his people protecting the common people who live on the often-neglected borders of Stormwind (though we will answer the call to world wars). Our story began in 2010 with the Coalition living full-time in Duskwood, but with the betrayal of the mayor and the murder of the people with the legion expansion, we were forced by sheer story to relocate.

Late 2021 saw us settled into Westfall with a land claim in its south, and we've been there since. Though a renewed effort has been put forth to help revitalize Duskwood alongside like-minded groups; You will see our Knights and defenders oftentimes patrolling the roads or in the tavern there. Epic server-wide community events such as Warcraft: Conquest are also a mainstay of our RP adventures!

We are a mostly evening guild/weekend guild. (darn works) We do not have officers, we all take pride in the story and the growth of the guild. We recruit via storyline and RP alone. We have little restrictions for IRL/OOC when accepting people into the guild but rather focus on behavior. We expect teamwork, kindness, respect to guild members and the community. This includes your behavior when Pvping/Raiding/Questing.

[tigerstrikesasteroidnetwork]

CHI / Make sure I’m there when you open your eyes

Make sure I’m there when you open your eyes: Karen Dana Cohen, Jaclyn Jacunski, Cydney Lewis March 4–April 15, 2023

Opening Reception: Saturday, March 4, 1–4pm

Tiger Strikes Asteroid Chicago is proud to present Make sure I’m there when you open your eyes, featuring work by the three newest members of TSA CHI: Karen Dana Cohen, Jaclyn Jacunski, and Cydney Lewis. The exhibition is organized by fellow TSA CHI member, Teresa Silva, and will be on view from March 4–April 15, 2023. An opening reception will be held on Saturday, March 4, 1–4pm.

Make sure I’m there when you open your eyes is a group exhibition conceived in tandem between the artists and curator. As members of a cooperative, they share an incisive and affirming relationship that embraces affinities and differences in the thinking and creating processes. 

This exhibition presents new works in sculpture, drawing, and assemblage by Dana, Jacunski, and Lewis respectively. The pieces build upon and ripple out from previous works in the artists’ ongoing practices, which are rooted in concerns with material and affect. Make sure I’m there when you open your eyes is an offering to the viewer, an exhibition that is a container for energy, actively holding synergies to effect a greater aesthetic charge.

Above image:  Jaclyn Jacunski, Another Place Another Way, 2023, Later-cut acrylic, canvas, silicon, wax thread

About the artists

Karen Dana Cohen b. 1982 in Mexico City is an artist, educator and independent curator based in Chicago, IL. She received a BFA from The National Institute of Fine Arts in Mexico City (2005) and earned her MFA degree at Hunter College, New York (2011). Her practice acts as process-based research where she shows her complex identity as a Syrian Jew growing up in Mexico and more recently, as an immigrant mother. She has participated in national and international exhibitions, showing her own work as well as been a curator and organizer. Her must recent curatorial project Circularities showed the work of two contemporary female artist mothers that build paintings in a process that requires destruction and reconstruction. She is an active member of Tiger Strikes Asteroid Chicago and

teaches Studio Courses at Lillstreet Art Center. For the last five years she has been a leading mentor in a critique group of artists who are also caregivers.

I paint as a performative practice; to explore how we inhabit our bodies in a foreign context while making bridges to meet the viewer halfway. I aim to reclaim the meaning of home and place, and the consistent looming threats of erasure, removal and cultural legacies imposed on immigrants like me. The gestures on the pieces explore displacement, belonging, translation, and power dynamics. I treat painting as an expression beyond language, confronting a rhetoric of exclusion. Work that embodies and gives voice to the lived immigrant experience as

testimony of longing, migration, and shaping new identity. As Gloria Anzaldúa said: “To survive the Borderlands, you must live sin fronteras, be a crossroads.”

Jaclyn Jacunski is an interdisciplinary artist who exhibits both locally and nationally. She earned her MFA from SAIC and BFA from the University of Wisconsin–Madison, and she has taught at SAIC and Harrington College of Design. Jacunski’s practice stems from involvement in social and political causes, and she seeks to find understanding in political controversies that surround the land and community acts of resistance. Jacunski was a BOLT artist-in-residence at the Chicago Artists Coalition, and she has exhibited at ICAs in both Portland and Baltimore. Her work has been featured in the Chicago Tribune and Hyperallergic.

Cydney Lewis is a Chicago-based multimedia artist with a distinguished multidisciplinary background. She began in architecture at the University of Illinois Urbana Champaign, where she received a BS in Architectural Studies; she also attended the L’École D’architecture de Versailles, France. The fluidity of her ability to transform materials reflects her mastery of ballet as well as her endeavors in film. Her art is held in private collections around the world and has been exhibited widely, at venues including the Union League Chicago, Hyde Park Art Center and The Ukrainian Institute of Modern Art. She has received various honors, among them residencies with Chicago Public Schools and Lyseloth Musikerwohnhaus Basel, Switzerland, as well as awards including  3Arts Make A Wave, Best in Show at Governor State University and the Black Creativity/Green Art Award from the Museum of Science and Industry. Currently, she is a member of Tiger Strikes Asteroid of Chicago.

Walking through my community inspires me to imagine multidimensional landscapes created from everyday objects.  These unconventional artifacts reflect the world we live in, consume, and fill with things.  Printed material and imagery document our existence.  Discarded objects reveal what (and who) our society values, and what gets thrown away. Through drawing, sculpture, and installation assembled around these materials, I discover their stories, their beauty, and endless adaptation.  They create worlds that seem familiar and surreal.

About the curator

Teresa Silva is a writer, curator, and member of Tiger Strikes Asteroid, a non-profit network of artist-run spaces, since 2016.

Her writings have appeared in Obsidian and Left Coast Press Inc. Recent exhibitions have been presented at Mana Contemporary, Chicago Cultural Center, and 6018North, and were featured in Art Papers, Chicago Tribune, Chicago Reader, Newcity Chicago and WBEZ 91.5.

In 2017, Silva was a Diversity + Leadership Fellow with the Artist Communities Alliance; in 2018, an artist-in-residence at The Rauschenberg Residency on Captiva; and, in 2020, a visual arts panelist for the National Endowment for the Arts. In 2022, she was listed at #5 in Newcity's Art 50: Chicago's Visual Vanguard for her contributions to making the city’s arts ecosystem more sustainable and equitable. Currently, Silva sits on the board of directors for Heaven Gallery. 

Prior to 2023, Silva was the executive and artistic director at the Chicago Artists Coalition, where she created supportive spaces for artists to advance their creativity and career by connecting them with leading art professionals and audiences through presentation and dialogue.

photos by Tom Van Eynde

[sinsofaconfessor]

(( Apologies! and warning! This post is LONG!))

The Stormwind streets, an almost peacefully quiet day save the typical shouts of Breels recipes and the local gnews echoing. Syred sat there, slumped at his desk. One hand propping up his head as his dull gaze watched the door. Not many came to his shop, the small demand silently astonished Syred. He was quite certain with the way Stormwind worked, the way azeroth worked people should be flooding for customized weapons, runes and enchantments, potions and poisons. The shop now was a waiting room, an eerie limbo where the elf sat and watched time pass. 

More often than not, he'd close the shop early due to lack of visitors and return home, but today the thin wooden boards that made up the back wall of the shop found a small fraction of curiousity. Syred had discovered his shop shared a wall with what sounded like a guard office of some time. Chatter day in and out of various events, information muffled through wooden planks almost interesting amid what was another day of very little. His gaze turned to the door up the stairs, contemplating bringing Amarah and Ari downstairs. He'd finished working on a book for them, blank pages enchanted to give movement to figures drawn on them. He suspected it'd keep them from coloring on anymore important tomes he'd tried desperately to keep from their hands.

Syreds shop was something he was...fairly proud of, a work of almost gaudy and over the top elegance mixed with the brick and wood theme of stormwind.  Enchantments keeping books tethered to shelves, candles mounted in metallic holders enchanted with levitation spells all for a bit of flare and appeal, if only to advertise some of what the store offered. All the while black and red themed carpets, curtains and tapestries settled and guided the patrons gaze to the wares, all completely matching Syreds own preferred attire scheme.  No one expected less from an elf. Syred enjoyed playing the part a little too much.

the sound of bare feet shuffled across stone, bringing Syreds ears  from eavesdropping on the muffle sounds behind him to the door. A night elf stepped slowly and carefully inside the enchanted parlour. Dark violet skin and muscle framed kilt and glowing runes simmered over the Kal'doreis chest and arms, blindfold settled loosely on the bridge of his nose as jagged horns curved forward and up, marking this one as Illidari, or at least former. Demon hunters.

Ugh, demon hunters. Syreds thoughts turned to telling the elf he was closed, turning him away. Business had been beyond slow, however, and the shop itself hemmoraged money. If Syred had sought to do this for actual profit the business would have gone under months ago. Money wasn't an obstacle, boredom however stalled his typical standoffish nature.

Syred straightened himself out, rising to his feet and offering a slight dip of the head to the demon hunter, noting the lack of glaives with mild curiousity. " Greetings, Welcome to the Needful. What are you looking for today? new steel?" Cordial, though strained he was at least momentarily polite. Syred didn't like demon hunters, or paladins, or cats, or drunkards, fools, Sundays,Lightforged, farmers....It could be said the list of things Syred did like was far shorter. " I'm looking for something to help me kill a demon. The King has sent me on a mission."  

Of course, Syred slouched, almost bored all over, of course the demon hunter was hunting demons. Of course a call to victory from the king. Syred  unavoidably sighed. " I recommend an orb, something to contain spirits and entities. Killing a demon isn't an issue, it's mostly what happens to their essence afterwards..I suspect you're careful enough to avoid overeating since you aren't a pile of ash." Syreds hand flicked, a crystalline orb floated off the shelf closest to the window, slowly gliding toward the center of the room. **Thunk..**

The orb fell to the ground,  its magics failed, in the same instant the whole shop seemed to falter like a gnomish machine running out of power. Enchantments lost their glow, candles fell to the ground spilling wax and rolling across the wood and stone. Everything in the store seemed to go dark. The entire fade of magic brought a moment of pause, confusion over Syreds face evident. All of this seemed...impossible. His eyes turned up to the window of his shop, outside a deep green glow just barely evident, a sign of tampering.

His eyes turned back to the demon hunter standing in the room with him, two feet taller, massive. His eyes stared down at Syred as thick rocky carapace coating his shoulders, arms and claws.

oh.

Oh.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the Stormwind office, a simple accountant keeping track. He was seated at a desk, keeping tally of each guards salary in a ledger. Mundane silence and peace. It wasn't even payday when the accountant had the most conversations his entire week. The only break in his silence was the soft scribbles of the quill over paper.It was just enough for the accountant to wish for something else. Maybe -he- could apply for a guard position for a more exciting life! This office was cramped and worst of all, strangely hot this early in the morning. Why -was- it so hot?

The thought was answered in a flash of fate-woven destruction. Splintering wood heralded an explosion of shattered singed and cracked wooden walls. The first sight emerging? A pitch foxtail, cropped by massive violet clawed hands, armored in thick rocky scales. Wood planks thrust outward as burnt discolored wood exploded outward, the accountants only friend  was the desk he'd ducked behind to avoid the shrapnel of splinters and chunks of wood. The immense form of a Demon hunter powered by vengeance burst through the wall, revealing the shop burst in felflames. Massive clawed feet gouged the wood of the guard house as he'd come to a halt, it was evident a charged leap had sent the demon hunter and Syred through the wall. Destruction and flames weaved through the now merged buildings, Syreds head clutched in the demons clawed palm.

Smoke spilled through the office, causing the Accountant to race from his office , screaming into the street. "  FIRE!. There's a fire! " He scampered toward the stocks, quick to call anyone and everyones attention. Amid the plumes of smoke the sounds of violent impacts, wood being crushed and grunts of pain, snarls as the howl of of something whipping quickly through the air. Grunts and audible tears of cloth, and furniture violently crushed tattled the hidden violence behind the smoke. Small sounds of bystanders gathering witnessed not a shopkeep being accosted, but the shadows of two bipedal creatures illuminated by green flame and clouded by smog trading blows.

Books fueled the flames as the second stories support gave way, groaning before shelves came crashing to the ground, support beams weakened and collapsing into the rest pushing smoke into the streets. The crowed scampered back from the smoke, some overwhelmed by the surge and encompassed with in it.

Then? The smoke dissipated,  the witnesses seeing the smoke taking to the sky and flowing rapidly off into the distance. All that remained was the two destroyed buildings, all sounds of violence gone. It was as if the two creatures had vanished, leaving two hollowed frames of buildings burned to ash from entirely within. Syred had now earned himself the title of completely and utterly uninsurable.

Smoke rocketed across the sky, billowing over cliffs and farmland before arcing downward as if the smoke trailed a cannonball now coming to kiss the ground.  What landed was far heavier.  A crash of locked limps and clawed hands sinking into flesh, gashing wounds across skin tumbling across the quarry of the gold coast, set just to the profile of the giant pit. Syreds form scrambled to his feet, shadow magic clouding him and the demon hunter dissipated. The Night elfs rocky skin, forged into spikes jutting alone his forearms, shoulders, and back. The Night elfs skin bore claw marks gashing his flesh over his torso and arms, blood stained his spikes. His jaw, temple and cheek held lines cut across his face. Fire sparked over the dry grass of the plains cropping his feet. His Metamorphosis burned with power, heaving pants and a pleased grin laced in dripping blood over his canines.

Across from the Demon hunter  crouched Syred, his shoes destroyed leaving clawed feet and carapace skin. A long spindly tail swayed, barbed points at the end dripping with the demon hunters blood. His clothes were in tatters, flesh burned a slight green tint over the darker red. Horns curved back over his foxtail. Bruised skin in the shape of fingers painted over his head with blood dripping down over the back of his neck. Cuts  and pierced wounds peppered over the darkened skin of his torso, cropped barely by thin fabric dangling but a few errant buttons clinging to the mockery of the shirt swaying in the air of the farmland. Black carapace wings twitching and lightly flapping behind him. The Demon hunter had revealed Syreds form in the brutal brawl of fire, brimstone and public destruction. Syreds demonic flesh had torn into the fabrics of finely tailored clothes, carapace legs pierced the fabric of his pants as dripping blood leaked down his figure. The bleeding seemed secondary injuries to the large bruise marks forging green welts over Syreds skin and what was likely close to broken bones barely saved by hard demonic sinew and muscle.

Both were panting, staring unblinkingly at one another as Syreds voice gasped out the first words between the two since their first round of brawling. " You...Lose." Kal'dorei cackled. " I lose? I got you alone with no guards to interfere. You..." Lose."

This person was after him? The realization brought a swell of shadowmagic, darkness spilled across the ground, shadowy tendrils birthed from the ground and rocketed toward the demon hunter, sharpened points of magic seeking to skewer and pierce him. Felfire flames burst around the hunter, repelling the shadows around his form as his massive legs propelled him into the air, launching him down onto Syreds form. Felfire trailed around the hunters figure as he lunged at Syred.

Syreds gaze widened, watching the hunter repel his magics, sigils of felflame marking the ground around him. Clouds of shadowmagic surged around him, working to disperse his form from physicality only to be dispelled as a massive clawed hand ripped past the smoke, gripping at Syreds neck and plucking him from his magics influence. Carapace hands grasped at the arm in range before the demons form was gripped, clawed fingers dug into his throat causing blood to drip down his skin. The hunters laugh was instant as his grip allowed him to turn, lifting Syreds shorter demonic body and hurl him into the massive crater of the quarry.

Syreds body tumbled, no mercy granted in his fall as rocks crashed against carapace, bone and flesh until he'd landed at the bottom, limp figure draped over a fallen boulder. This was where a villain would be mid-monologue, talking about how perfect their plan was. It was unfortunate Syred wasn't in a talking mood. The hunter himself wasn't big on words and it showed as a boulder found itself rolled from the edge of the quarry and sent tumbling after the devastated demon. The sound of crashing rocks hitting the side of the quarry brought conscious thought and survival instincts to kick in, pushing Syred to open his eyes and look up. Shadows swirled around him again, pushing past the boulder as it slammed against the bottom of the quarry where his body once lay, the smoke condensed into a cloud, swelling as if staying intangible for whatever reason. The hunter allowed for little time for a reprieve, massive clawed feet pushed the elf off the edge of the quarry as he leapt down and into the cloud, immolating felflames burning through the cloud of magic and forcing Syreds form into physicality.

**CRACK**

Carapace broken, bone shattered and the demons body was shoved back into the bottom of the rocky pit, his left arm bent the wrong way, his torso folded against a clawed fist that cracked into his side, sending the body bouncing uselessly across the ground. Pain Ripped through Syreds nerves, screaming in protest at pain he'd not felt in some time. It was blinding and with so little time to recover the situation only found itself more grim. Syreds brief dispersion had allowed him time to seal the gashed and cuts on his wounds, but did little for new wounds of the devastating connections of the demons fists with his form. Syred fell uselessly again to the ground, magic wasn't working, and in this moment a knock down drag down fight wasn't working either. What else was left to do? Shadows were ineffective on the hunter. " The King wants you gone... Imagine his surprise when I tell him what you really were. A useless pile of demon." The hunter looked to be rolling his shoulders, fuming with power as flames licked the air around him. He approached Syreds prone form, snatching at his leg with a crushing grip to lift his carapaces figure upside down. A moment later the hunters hand twisted, snapping Syreds leg and cracking clear through the carapace to break at his leg. " There will be no nether for you, I'll eat you myself piece by piece...starting with.."

The pain caused an unavoidable howl from Syreds lips, anger, fury and rage boiled up. Whispers began to call at his mind, calling violence and death to his mind. Sanity melted rational thought except for one single synapse, one track snapped into a singular idea.

A boulder smashed against the hunters back, causing him to drop the elf and fall over. The hunter turned, looking at the top of the quarry above him. Had someone come to interfere? His answer came in the form of another boulder -smashing- against his form. Shadowy tendrils had birthed from the walls, magics grasping over the physical, what couldn't be dispelled by the hunters magics. Each Tendril Hurling boulder after boulder from the bottom of the quarry.

Rock after rock battered against the demons spiked armor, crashing and raining a storm of rocks against his body, the strain of physical exertion and the time spent in the form caused the spikes to melt away, grunts and thrashes as the hunter swiped at the number of shadowy assailants with little avail, their distance and use of the projectiles kept hailing any number of gravel. smaller stones hailed at the elf like bullets, pelting against the elfs violet skin until? A sharper rock found it's home in his back. An elongated rock hurled like a javelin pierced elven flesh, the tip of the rock emerged from his chest.

Syreds azure eyes stared from the ground, his mangled frame willing the shadowy tendrils into murdering for his will. The demons gaze turned to look back at Syreds prone form, even with the meat of his body absolutely devastated. Flames licked at his skin as felflames and power built into his form. The hunter laughed at Syred, watching him before.

Chaos, power, flames burst through the quarry. Fire erupted from the hunter in spite and vengeance causing a surge of felflame to burst and cover the entire quarry in the blast. The force of the explosion sent a tremor through the ground in Westfall, green flame lighting the morning sky in a pillar of flame, heat and magic slagging rock and spraying molten magic across the ground.

The eruption was enough to get the guards of sentinel hill to send a patrol, paladins given a call to action and adventurers given quest to find the source of the danger. In hours passed, the guard that came upon the scene found two charred skeletons cemented into slagged rock at the bottom of the quarry, unidentifiable by any clothing or hair, one skeleton submerged in heated rock face down into the bottom of the quarry, the other face up adjacent to him.

[lenora-reyes]

Subterfuge

"Hang in there, don't give up now! Light, please save her soul!!!"

Unresponsive to the pleas of Medic Lily Ann Silver, Lenora's body lay close to Sir Melek's in the medical ward at the Coalition's camp. Resting in a pool of her own blood, her body had been stripped of her plate armor. It had protected some of her flesh from being rendered into further disrepair. However, some pressure was applied to her bloody side, and stitches infused with the light were woven throughout the lacerated extremity before being drawn shut.

Lenora's inability to see what was taking place had her reality altered gradually into a new vision. Holy magic had called out to her soul, resonating with a melody that was born of those touched by it's grace. And it was no coincidence when her mother's silhouette came into view. The High Priestess was adorned in a beautiful ivory robe with golden trim, a shrouded cowl, and a magnificent mantle of angelic divinity in the shape of heavenly wings. Her mother's eyes glowed with the power of light and she held a staff to her side. In addition, she was accompanied by several other acolytes in this place of light's origin.

"Your journey beyond the veil should not be here so soon, Lenora. Why is it that you are -..."

The High Priestess paused as her staff chimed with power on her approach. A calculated pause was taken by her mother, delaying her gracious reunion with her daughter. What once was filled with promise, quickly shifted to something of dread and irredeemable consequence.

"N-No... my daughter! What is it that you have done?!"

Lenora felt confusion laced with apprehension when her mother's inflection of scorn reached her ears. Needless to say, she sought the perpetrating notion that affronted her mother frantically in an effort to diffuse the tense situation.

A situation that was not clear to the Squire in any capacity. Among the holy guests of this Matronly host of light, there was no discernible answer. And when Lenora had been about to reply, something inexplicable had encouraged her to gaze downward.

Darkness had swallowed her arms and body in a living shadow. She could not see through this aura or affliction as it clung to her. Panic seized her abruptly and instead of seeking help, the Squire withdrew from her mother and her entourage of priests. But the holy attendants formed a circle around her. An incantation formed a barrier of light in the shape of a dome over her and that image of her mother.

Pain etched into her mother's expression despite the shadows of her cowl that had covered her eyes.

"Mom, please! W-what is happening?! Please let me go!!"

The staff was held out to her side as that free hand was placed forward in the direction of Lenora's position. Light coalesced within her palm as a sacred flame was expelled in an indiscriminate attack. The deliberate attempt succeeded in smiting the unspoken sins from Lenora's frame.

Immediately, the Squire was brought to her hands and knees as searing pain bit into her entirety. And despite what efforts she made to endure, her mother's resolve grew more unyielding with additional lashings of the light.

"Mother, please! I do not know what it is I have done! Why are you hurting me?!"

Soon a venomous smile worked its way onto her mother's face. The light that had been in her mother's gaze now took on a menacing red with shadows over her eyes.

"Please... stop... Mother! You are all that I have left! Why... Why must you take away hope?"

A shattering sound disrupted the entourage of attacks after that last smite. The barrier that was erected to keep Lenora caged with her mother burst into a series of dissipating light shards. And the ground that held her seemingly vanished. Distance was put between them as Lenora fell into a sea of darkness. The silhouette of her mother was taken by a tide of surging shadow.

"The Nerubians are a race descended from the ancient Aqir, roughly half of which migrated to Northrend after bitter warfare with the Trolls of Kalimdor. There, they dug out tunnels, deep into the rock and ice, utilizing massive Jormungar worms to do so. Ajol'Nerub was what they called this city-state, and the individual towns which made up such a place stretched far and wide throughout the frozen depths of the continent. The Vrykul likewise lived in Northrend, having domesticated proto-drakes to serve as mounts, as did the Drakkari Trolls, who had been driven out of the rest of the world by the Smolderthorn, Amani, and other tribes. The Nerubians fled the Trolls, the Trolls fled other Trolls, and the Vrykul lived as simple people, trading, eventually, with human settlers from Lordaeron. One might assume that the Highborne ruins in Northrend had been long unoccupied by the time most had arrived there. The arrival of the Lich King was something... Unpleasant. For the local races. For the Drakkari? It was sheer panic. They were unable to contain their emotions and began hurriedly sacrificing their own Deities to stem the tide. The Nerubians? Most willingly joined the Scourge. Some? Some fled into hiding. The Vrykul? Many, many of them joined the Armies of the Scourge and helped to destroy the coastal towns under the flag of King Terenas Menethil. And little did King Terenas Menethil know that his own son, Arthas, would become a vessel for the Lich King... Ner'Zhul. The Lordaeronian Northrend Expedition was a complete disaster. To read the leftover documentation, King Terenas recalled the Expedition to Lordaeron, via an Emissary sent aboard a Goblin Zeppelin. Prince Arthas deigned to burn his ships at anchor, utilizing local Troll mercenaries. Once the deed was done, he blamed the very mercenaries, and...History is not kind..."

The voice of the Drac'thyr faded and Lenora held no agency in the events that transpired around her.

"Put her in the bed next to the others. I will tend to her momentarily."

A frazzled Miss Bee's voice stated before she moved to Sir Melek's side. An exasperated sigh left her as she began to work with him first.

"Lenora, hang in there. Don't you go dying on me. You and the others will make it back to us. And when you get back, I got breakfast covered. Can't have you worrying Gale or anyone else like this!"

Adamar's voice was a mixture of assurance, worry, and support. And as her body was set to rest, there was a silence that overtook her senses once more.

Before her stretched an endless field of gold with a gathering of women standing beneath a sky made of shadow. In this sky were golden stars and moons. Not one of these people could she identify. They all wore the same attire, black dresses that stretched to their feet. But not one of them reacted to Lenora's arrival. They stood as still as statues with gazes far from this world and likely into the next.

Lenora moved through the field of grass as it crunched mutely beneath her feet. A hand reached to one of these girls as if to try to rouse them, but previous interactions had dissuaded any such advance. It was then that Lady Sunshield's voice echoed in her thoughts.

"I want you to count how many people go into the inn and leave it while you dance."

One... Two... Three... The counting began as she moved past each person. It was until she reached the last one that the number had reached ninety. A glance was cast back to the trail of smothered grass from her path. There was no starting point and the end was nowhere in sight for this field. Aimless, she began her search for a change in her surroundings or an ending to this surreal environment.

At least not initially...

The thundering of stampeding hooves took the dream to another angle. Armor that resembled that of Sir Jonathan Folcard could be seen atop his horse approaching Lenora with haste. And for the first time, since she went under, she found herself hurrying towards him.

"Sir Jonathan!"

Her voice shouted to the lone approaching rider. As he drew nearer, she couldn't help but take notice he was holding his sword out. Her father's sword...

A detail she should have immediately addressed considering the nature of things so far. A look was made behind her where the line of women still stood perpetually still. There was no encroaching threat to the Squire's eyes. But as she turned back to see Sir Jonathan, the sound of steel penetrated her flesh. Blood was forced up through her throat as she coughed the crimson life essence into her hand. Like the others, she was in a black gown and defenseless to the Knight Captain of the Borderland Coalition. Like her mother's attacks, the sharpened steel remained lodged in her chest as Sir Jonathan moved away from her.

Crippled by disbelief and insurmountable loneliness, she watched that second father figure of hers disappear before her very eyes. An effort to move her arm to dislodge her father's sword came, but her limbs didn't respond to her internal wishes. Blood coated the fabric of her dress in a shiny sheen as she was forced to stare down at the sword embedded into her chest. Right where her heart had been. Had his attack been a sign? What did it mean...?

Weariness plagued her as she panted heavily from exasperation and tremors radiated throughout her frame.

Just then another cut was felt along the back of her right calf that caused her right leg to buckle. A kneeling position was assumed as the sight of Gale came into view. He was still a boy in her dream and nearby his father moved forward to place a hand over the crown of his head. A light ruffle of approval was given to him in a show of compassion as he looked at Lenora. But his eyes were vacant and black. And a smile was made to her in a sickening display of smug satisfaction.

The scenarios of betrayal did not end there. The puncturing of two daggers along her shoulder blades was forcing her onto her hands and knees. More weapons started to accumulate in her frame. A spear by Dame Eleysia went through her back and out the front, the end was coated in blood that streamed down the length of her weapon.

Gradually the golden field turned red as if stained by the unending spilling of her blood. And all throughout this exchange, the question remained... why?

Dejected by her inability to understand, Lenora remained frozen and unmoving. Her heart was shattered by her mother's aggression and the deceit of her fellow knights. Questions of doubt whispered in the recesses of her thoughts.

"You are the reason they are in danger..."

"You broke your oath..."

"Will you continue to fail?"

As these thoughts plagued her mind and soul, a sweet and tantalizing scent reached her. The sight of a single rose stood before her as it was consumed by the devouring plague that had existed within her. Perhaps it was that connection that had made the flower irresistible to Lenora. Feebly a hand reached for it as it was the last sign of beauty in her fading breath.

"Do not despair, Squire Reyes. Just because the light forsakes you, it does not mean all will. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

Within the darkness, something emerged resembling the same color scheme as the flower. Unlike the light, a violet hue took the eyes of this knight. He bore no tabard as he gazed downward at Lenora's impaled frame.

"...Take heed of my words. Strive for power rather than hope. Empty your heart of those that would be your demise. Clear your mind... and accept your destiny."

A plated gauntlet was extended forward to her as she looked up at the offered hand. How long would she have to relive the scenarios of betrayal? Fragile, broken, and without guidance... the Squire wanted to cling to that which she believed in.

"My.... oath.... binds me... to serve my Lord... and his House... the people." Her voice wavered unsteadily.

"Words that are stated with desperation rather than conviction are just empty promises. You can tell me what your oath is and try to convince yourself that it is your means of survival. But it isn't. It has only led you to this point - where you now lay on your deathbed nearly. Are you so disillusioned by the need to fulfill your father's legacy that you would lie to yourself and others to pretend you could be that which they desire? You have condemned yourself to be branded as an Oathbreaker the moment you ran. How often will you run from your fate, them, and who you truly are? You turn your back on them when they try to get close, afraid they will uncover the truth you wish to hide. But your days are numbered, Lenora Reyes. A choice will need to be made... and when that day comes, I will be here waiting."

@theborderlandcoalition @valorandvictory @agilneanrose @honorablecombat @adamarmeadowcroft @melekdyneer @eleysiastormcrow

[joyfreakcom]

Microsoft announces Xbox Series X dedicated audio hardware acceleration

[marxist-feminist]

DIRECTORY OF CRIMINAL SYSTEM BAIL FUNDS

National organizations funding bail across the U.S.

National Bail Out

The American Bar Association

Queer Detainee Empowerment Project

Freedom for Immigrants

Local organizations funding bail for immigrants

Arizona Tucson Second Chance Bail Fund Colorado Colorado Freedom Fund California Bay Area Immigration Bond Fund Immigrant Families Defense Fund The Orange County Justice Fund Connecticut Connecticut Bail Fund Immigrant Bail Fund Florida LGBTQ Freedom Fund Hawaii Hawaii Community Bail Fund Illinois Champaign County Bailout Coalition Chicago Community Bond Fund Iowa Eastern Iowa Community Bond Project Kentucky Louisville Community Bail Fund Louisiana New Orleans Safety & Freedom Fund YWCA Greater Baton Rouge Community Bail Fund Massachusetts Massachusetts Bail Fund Minnesota Minnesota Freedom Fund Nebraska Omaha Freedom Fund Nevada Vegas Freedom Fund New York City Bronx Freedom Fund Brooklyn Community Bail Fund Lorena Borjas Community Fund WSLS Bail Fund New York State Columbia County Bail Fund EOC of Suffolk Inc. Charitable Bail Fund OAR of Tompkins County Bail Fund Syracuse Jail Ministry North Carolina Southern Coalition for Social Justice Bail Fund Alamance County Community Bail Fund North Carolina Community Bail Fund of Durham Oregon Portland Freedom Fund Pennsylvania Dauphin County Bail Fund Philadelphia Community Bail Fund Philadelphia Bail Fund Tennessee Hamilton County Community Bail Fund Memphis Community Bail Fund Nashville Community Bail Fund Texas Detained Migrant Solidarity Committee Fianza Fund Community Bail Fund of North Texas Virginia Richmond Community Bail Fund Roanoke Community Bail Fund Charlottesville Community Resilience Fund Washington Northwest Community Bail Fund Wisconsin Free the 350 Bail Fund

DIRECTORY OF IMMIGRATION BOND FUNDS National organizations across the U.S.

Freedom for Immigrants National Bond Fund

Haitian Immigrant Bond Assistance Project

LGBTQ Freedom Fund

RAICES Bond Fund

Arizona Pima Monthly Meeting Immigration Bond Fund California Bay Area Immigration Bond Fund Immigrant Families Defense Fund Orange County Justice Fund San Diego Immigrant Rights Consortium -- Borderlands Get Free Fund Colorado Immigrant Freedom Fund of Colorado Connecticut Immigrant Bail Fund Iowa Eastern Iowa Community Bond Project Massachusetts Beyond Bail & Legal Defense Fund Michigan Kent County Immigration Bond for Our Neighbor’s Defense Fund Minnesota Minnesota Freedom Fund New Hampshire NH Conference UCC Immigrant and Refugee Support Group New York LIFE Bond Fund (New Sanctuary Coalition)New York Immigrant Freedom Fund Ohio (includes Northern Kentucky) 3R Fund for Immigrants Texas Fronterizo Fianza Fund Hutto Community Deportation Defense & Bond Fund RAICES Texas Bond Fund Vermont Vermont Freedom Bail Fund  Virginia Cville Immigrant Bond Fund Washington Fair Fight Immigrant Bond Fund

[agilneanrose]

The heavy package would arrive not by magical mail but by two men donned in black and gold tabards. The sun and crossed swords might tattle who the men belonged to but should that not be the case - the letter they delivered with the package would work.

Dear Ashbanes and the Silver Dawn,

There is much that can change in a year. We can lose and gain allies with the setting of the sun, we can find our whole worlds tipped upside down with the birth of a child, a marriage, or the loss of a loved one. We have seen, in this past year, our world ripped open and the war horn sounded yet again. The fact that you still have each other and still march towards the goal that you have set for yourselves and your people but a year ago means that you know how to rally and overcome.

We are honored, the Sunshields and Coalition, to know that people like you are in this world and not only that you exist, but that you call us allies and friends.

Here’s to many more years of the Ashbanes and their Dawn. Please accept our gift as a symbol of appreciation of your tenacity.

With respect,

Rosemarri Sunshield and the Borderland Coalition.

P.s. No, Korvock, you cannot use it. It is just for decoration.

[newstfionline]

Friday, March 26, 2021

Border crossings strain resources in Rio Grande Valley (AP) Elmer Maldonado spent a week in immigration custody with his 1-year-old son after crossing the Rio Grande through Texas to request asylum. One night, the Honduran father and son slept on the dirt under a bridge shivering from the cold temperatures at an intake site where large groups of migrants turn themselves in to Border Patrol officers. His experience illustrates a cycle that is repeating itself thousands of times a week amid a dramatic rise in migrant children and families at the U.S.-Mexico border: They arrive in the middle of the night by the dozens and are kept at outdoor intake sites, then taken to overcrowded detention facilities well past the 72-hour court-imposed limit. From there, the families are either released into the U.S. or expelled to Mexico, the lucky ones dropped off at a COVID-19 testing site with documents. Children traveling without their parents go to federal shelters that are also quickly filling up. The process is largely out of the public eye. The Associated Press has not been allowed in any of the Border Patrol facilities. Journalists are often limited by authorities even when going to the banks of the Rio Grande to witness the process and talk to immigrants.

Capitol fencing removed 77 days after deadly riot (USA Today) An imposing fence-line strung with razor wire has been removed from the outer perimeter of the U.S. Capitol complex, more than two months after the deadly siege. Capitol Police said Wednesday that local streets blocked by the network of barriers also had been re-opened to traffic, though authorities said they are prepared to “quickly ramp up security at a moment’s notice, if needed.” An inner-perimeter fence around the actual Capitol building will remain in place while police and lawmakers continue to hash out a long-term security plan.

US saw estimated 4,000 extra murders in 2020 amid surge in daily gun violence (Guardian) For exactly a year during the pandemic, the United States did not see a single high-profile public mass shooting. But a surge in daily gun violence contributed to an estimated 4,000 additional murders throughout 2020, in what experts warn will probably be the worst single-year increase in murders on record. Early estimates suggest the US may have seen at least 4,000 more murders last year than in 2019, and potentially as many as 5,000 more, according to projections based on FBI data, though complete official statistics will not be available until the fall. Many of the homicides are concentrated in communities of color that have historically seen the worst burden of daily gun violence, including in Philadelphia, St Louis, Chicago and Oakland.

In Myanmar, a New Resistance Rises (NYT) In a jungle in the borderlands of Myanmar, the troops sweated through basic training. They learned how to load a rifle, pull the pin of a hand grenade and assemble a firebomb. These cadets are not members of Myanmar’s military, which seized power last month and quickly imposed a battlefield brutality on the country’s populace. Instead, they are an eclectic corps of students, activists and ordinary office workers who believe that fighting back is the only way to defeat one of the world’s most ruthless armed forces. After weeks of peaceful protests, the frontline of Myanmar’s resistance to the Feb. 1 coup is mobilizing into a kind of guerrilla force. In the cities, protesters have built barricades to protect neighborhoods from military incursions and learned how to make smoke bombs on the internet. In the forests, they are training in basic warfare techniques and plotting to sabotage military-linked facilities. The opposition is a defensive response to the military’s mounting reign of terror. The Tatmadaw has cracked down on peaceful protesters and unarmed bystanders alike, killing at least 275 people since the coup, according to a monitoring group.

Torch relay for Tokyo Olympics kicks off its 121-day journey (AP) The torch relay for the postponed Tokyo Olympics began its 121-day journey across Japan on Thursday and is headed toward the opening ceremony in Tokyo on July 23. The relay began in northeastern Fukushima prefecture, the area that was devastated by the 2011 earthquake, tsunami and the meltdown of three nuclear reactors. About 18,000 died in the tragedy. About 10,000 runners are expected to take part, with the relay touching Japan’s 47 prefectures.

Taiwan beefing up its defenses (South China Morning Post) Taiwan has begun mass production of a long-range missile and is developing three other models, a senior official said on Thursday, in a rare admission of efforts to develop strike capacity amid growing pressure from mainland China. The island’s armed forces are in the middle of a modernization program to offer a more effective deterrent, including the ability to hit back at bases deep within mainland China in the event of a conflict.

Some Australians return home as others evacuated in floods crisis (Reuters) Australians hit by devastating floodwaters began returning to their homes on Thursday as skies cleared and authorities accelerated clean-up efforts, though fresh evacuation orders were issued in some areas where water levels were still rising. Relentless rains for five straight days—the worst downpour in more than half a century—burst river banks, inundating homes, roads, bridges and farms and cutting off entire towns in Australia’s east. More than 40,000 people were forced to move to safe zones and two men were killed after their cars became trapped in floodwaters. Water continued to flow from overloaded dams and rivers on Thursday, particularly in New South Wales state, leading authorities to urge caution. Major flooding also continues in Sydney’s western suburbs of North Richmond and Windsor, while fresh evacuation orders were issued for some areas in the centre of the state.

One man’s mission offers Beirut neighbourhood a vision of hope after blast (Reuters) The sheer scale of the destruction in Beirut’s Karantina district after the massive explosion at the port last August made rebuilding a daunting feat. That was where Marc Torbey El Helou, a charity worker, came in. The low-income neighbourhood was one of the closest to the blast that killed 200 people. It stands across from the giant, mutilated grain silo that has become a symbol of the tragedy. Helou decided a day after the explosion to dedicate himself, and the aid group he runs, to rebuilding the neighbourhood. Just removing the rubble required 300 truckloads. Some buildings needed immediate help to stop them collapsing. Helou says the same of Karantina’s residents. “There were children here who would not laugh or play for months.” Helou’s charity, Offre Joie (Joy of Giving), has repaired Lebanese districts hit by war and violence since 1985. “Unfortunately, it means we have the experience for this,” said Helou, 33, who has used a wheelchair since a diving accident in 2016. With the Lebanese state hollowed out by decades of corruption and failure, it fell to aid groups and volunteers like Helou to rebuild the city. Offre Joie took on six blocks in Karantina and nearby. That includes the homes of about 350 families. More than seven months after the explosion, one of the largest non-nuclear detonations on record, many residents have yet to return. But the streets are bustling with life again, and the buildings never looked so good. The charity’s budget was trapped in the bank thanks to controls imposed during Lebanon’s financial crisis. But donations poured in from abroad: up to three million dollars in cash, construction material and containers full of food. Thousands of volunteers also came, including engineers and psychologists.

Musical Chairs But The Song Never Ends (NYT) Four elections in two years have failed to give Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu the necessary 61 seats to form a coalition government with a majority in Parliament. With more than 90% of Wednesday’s vote counted, Netanyahu’s right-wing alliance had 52 seats and his opponents had 56. And the gridlock extends beyond the election. Administrative stagnation has left Israel without a national budget for two consecutive years in the middle of a pandemic, and with several key Civil Service posts unstaffed. The idea that the political deadlock paralyzing the country isn’t going to get better, and in fact appears to have gotten worse, has Israelis pondering the viability of their electoral system, the functionality of their government and whether the divisions between the country’s various politics—secular and devout, right-wing and leftist, Jewish and Arab—have made the nation unmanageable. A Tel Aviv-based analyst said Israel isn’t yet a failed state, like Lebanon, because it still has institutions. “But there is definitely erosion,” she said. “Not having a budget for two years—this is really dangerous.”

Saudi official denies threat to harm UN Khashoggi investigator (Reuters) A senior Saudi official denied on Thursday he had threatened to harm the human rights expert who led the U.N. investigation into the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, after the United Nations confirmed the expert’s account of the threat. Agnes Callamard, the U.N. expert on summary killings, has said that a Saudi official threatened at a Jan. 2020 meeting in Geneva that she would be “taken care of” if she was not reined in following her investigation into the journalist’s murder. She said the remark was interpreted by U.N. officials as a “death threat”. The United Nations confirmed her account on Wednesday, describing the remark as a “threat”. Neither Callamard nor the United Nations has identified the Saudi official who made the remark. However, the head of Saudi Arabia’s human rights commission, Awwad Alawwad, identified himself as the official on Thursday, while denying he had intended any threat.

Stuck ship in Egypt’s Suez Canal imperils shipping worldwide (Washington Post) A skyscraper-sized cargo ship wedged across Egypt’s Suez Canal further imperiled global shipping Thursday as at least 150 other vessels needing to pass through the crucial waterway idled waiting for the obstruction to clear, authorities said. The Ever Given, a Panama-flagged ship that carries cargo between Asia and Europe, ran aground Tuesday in the narrow, man-made canal dividing continental Africa from the Sinai Peninsula. In the time since, efforts to free the ship using dredgers, digging and the aid of high tides have yet to push the container vessel aside—affecting billions of dollars’ worth of cargo. Overall, famed shipping journal Lloyd’s List estimates each day the Suez Canal is closed disrupts over $9 billion worth of goods that should be passing through the waterway. A quarter of all Suez Canal traffic a day comes from container ships like the Ever Given, the journal said. “Blocking something like the Suez Canal really sets in motion a number of dominos toppling each other over,” said Lars Jensen, chief executive of Denmark-based SeaIntelligence Consulting. “The effect is not only going to be the simple, immediate one with cargo being delayed over the next few weeks, but will actually have repercussions several months down the line for the supply chain.”

[lamiiku]

Borderlands 3 DLC4: my own ending not knowing anything about what happens in the DLC

Someone in the LPS Discord asked me what my “best outcome” ending for DLC4 would be...

There’s no spoilers for DLC4 in here because I don’t even know what happens in it yet! I just know the basic premise and pretty much ignored it anyways

Best outcome for DLC4:

The new Vault Hunters help Krieg process his recent grief and help him to reconnect with his past. He reclaims memories of his previous life as a bounty hunter and a gun-for-hire, how he was sold out by his bandit clan, only for Hyperion to betray them and burn their camp to the ground anyways. He comes to grips with the fact that his violent side helped to keep him alive in the harsh environment of Pandora, that his fierceness is a vital part of who he is. He also realizes that simply living as a beast will not absolve him of his grief and he can't bury his feelings - he has to allow some degree of rationality to come forth. The two sides of himself have a brief but touching heart-to-heart and reconcile themselves with each other. Krieg learns to embrace all aspects of his self, and two minds decide to live together, if with some difficulty, in the same body.

Krieg gives everyone a valuable lesson about the consequences of trauma and psychological disorders. He doesn't fundamentally change, but he learns to use his strength to actively protect others. He forgives himself for letting down the people he couldn't protect.

At the end of the DLC, Krieg makes a grand speech in front of a legion of assembled bandits, psychos, marauders, ect. He declares that they can all carve a better future for themselves by uniting to protect Pandora from people who would exploit it for their own gain. He convinces the scattered forces of the wasteland to come together under and form a coalition of nearly every major factions. The various bandit tribes agree to a cease-fire with the Crimson Raiders and agree to work together and form a defensive pact to protect the planet.

The bandits begin to assemble a rag-tag spacebound militia to protect Pandora. Combining their knowledge of on-the-fly engineering with blueprints looted from the fallen Helios moonbase, the new Vault Hunters see off the first flight of the Phoenix Battallion. At the helm of their flag ship, a crude but imposing vessel, two emblems are emblazoned on the front of the hull: the insignia of the Firehawk, and a crude drawing of the planet of Pandora being shielded by a dark blue sphere of Siren energy.

The City of Opprotunity is claimed by the Crimon Raiders, and is repurposed as their new center of planet-side operations. The city has been upgraded with docking stations for space vessels, to accomadate forces of the Bandit coalition. On the west side of the city, arge living quarters and training spaces have been built ajacent to the city, allowing the Raiders to actively recruit new troops and expand their thinning and aging ranks. Tannis oversees the training of the new Raiders using a substantially toned-down version of her Digistruct Peak program. On the south side of the city, Ellie and Gaige oversee the processing of scrap metal from around the planet. Massive barges come from around Pandora, bearing raw materials that will be used for constructing the hulls of new spaceships for the planet's space defenses, and powered suits of armor for the Raiders.

The remaining leaders of the Raiders, along with the new Vault Hunters, meet at the center of the city. The Raiders begin working on plans to begin securing other Vaults across the galaxy. Having seen the destructive power unleased by the Great Vault, taking control of other Vaults is an extremely high priority.

The Raiders' meeting is interrupted by the sound of a massive explosion just ouside the city. They rush outside to see massive battleships entering Pandora's upper atmosphere. Ships are plummenting from the sky, many of them bandit ships that were not designed to withstand a coordinated assault. Sanctuary, still one of the Raiders' most powerful vessels, is visible from the ground, locked in combat with three incoming battle cruisers. Fast-moving bombers begin moving in on Opprotunity, screaming over the Highlands so fast that the green fields are set abaze. The bombers are barely intercepted in time by mounted cannons and ground-based Bandit coalition vehicles.

As the Raiders scramble to organize themselves and get civilians to safety, a gargantuan capital ship emerges from hyperspace. The ship is the size of a small city, long and rotund, with elongated laser cannons designed for punching through energy shields and decimating cities from space. As it looms over the Northwest Coast of Pandora, two battle cruisers detach from the sides of the capital ship, settling into a defensive formation and shielding the capital ship from incoming Bandit fighters.

A few seconds after the capital ship's entry, the gravatic shock wave of its re-entry into normal space rocks Opprotunity. Around the city, concrete foundations crack and reinforced windows shatter, a violent display unseen since the city was taken from Hyperion. A nearby radio communications tower collapses under its own weight, the metal skeleton of the structure smashing through the city's floor and causing a cave-in near the center of the city.

In the Radiers' headquarters, a damaged holo-interface flickers to life, bearing an intermittent signal from the capital ship. The blue-white emblem of the High Galactic Authority gleams through the carnage. The bespeckled visage of the fleet's commander appears in the hologram. In a calm, professional, and assertive tone, he begins detailing the terms of the Raiders' unconditional surrender, including with the cession of any territorial claims they've made in the Pandora system and surrender of any Eridian technology they've obtained.

The transmission is abruptly interrupted by the blaring whine of the ship's proximity alarm. The fleet commander turns around just in time to see a small Bandit ship drop its shields, bearing down on the bridge where he's standing. The blast shields on the ship's glass panels close just in time for the crude vessel to connect squarely with the bridge. The transmission cuts out briefly, and when it resumes, the bridge is in utter chaos. A massive, muscled figure steps through a freshly-melted hole in the side of the bridge. Where he walks, the ground bursts into searing flames; where he breathes, the air is laden with the smell of blood and brimstone. Gaining speed, the flaming figure sprints over to the fleet commander. Before the commander can react, he is split in two by the figure's spinning blade, a look of shock and bewilderment lingering on his face. The Raiders watch from afar, witnessing the gruesome slaughter of the crew.

Rallied by this first blow, the Raiders take to the skies, ready to defend Pandora from this military incursion. As they do, more fleets of ships from various factions begin appearing in space above the Northwest Coast. Massive, bukly, and slow-moving ships approach from the northern pole of the planet, fending off rotating squads of Bandit ships. As they approach the Northwest Coast, the bulky ships send a series of unmanned ships onto the Bandit fighters, each of them carrying a powerful explosive charge designed to tear through the hulls of enemy fighters. A fleet of sleek black cruisers, lined with cannons and adorned with crimson markings, unleash a blistering volley of plasma on the Authority ships. One of the Authority ships is split cleanly in two when a bright-red capital ship re-materializes halfway inside of it, causing a shower of debris to rain down on the planet below. Two small, green ships appear near the edge of the fight, using massive Digistruct rods to rapidly construct new fighters to assail the other factions.

The Raiders are caught at the center of a massive space battle over Pandora, in what looks to be the first act in a new Corporate War...